The Pureblood and his Muggley Fairy
by lovelyindeed
Summary: Draco visits his first love. Set after war. Harry killed Voldemort, Lucius killed Harry, Lucius took over the world. What will he find? The story is much better than the summary, please give it a chance. xD


**A Note To You from Me**: This is a one shot story. It is mostly about Draco, but another major Harry Potter character is involved. You'll probably guess it before the end, but please read it all the way through and tell me what you think. xD Reviews of all kinds are most gratefully accepted and encouraged.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter.

* * *

A faint smile gently graced the pink of his lips, lighting up his porcelain face like a lamp on the dark side of the moon. Seldom did such a sweet smile caress his features, for seldom did the young man ever wear anything but a snide smirk in its place.

A long finger trailed thoughtfully along the petals of the rose in his hands, the paleness of his finger contrasting starkly against the bloody scarlet of the flower.

As he strode at a leisurely pace down the dilapidated road, which had once been a suburban street, beautiful in its quaint way, but was now lying in disrepair, his black cloak billowed out behind him, and to the timid onlookers, he seemed like a shining, pale, beautiful fallen angel, seduced by the temptress, evil.

But his thoughts were not with the hollow eyes that followed him, loathing and jealousy, along with the deepest kind of fear swirling in their depths— no, his mind was someplace far away and long ago, when things had not been complicated. Before he had become the prince of the world.

* * *

He was young. He was as fair and pale as the newest petals of a barely blossoming flower. He was afraid. And he was lost.

Draco was wandering around in what looked like a big, black forest. The tall trees rose infinitesimally high above him, and Draco felt small and alone. Thinking back, Draco couldn't remember how he got there, but vaguely recalled something about falling off a broom. Tears started to flow from his gray eyes, as he finally sat with his back against a tree trunk and gave up his endless meandering.

"Are you lost, little boy?"

Draco looked up and saw what he thought must have been a beautiful fairy.

"Yes…" Draco said quietly, not sure how to phrase the millions of questions swirling around in his mind.

"Let me help you out of this forest, and then we can call your mum and dad," the little girl said, proffering to Draco a slim hand. Draco took it with a look of amazement on his face.

He was too young then to know that little boys must not cry, and his crying had ceased, now that such a pretty specimen was holding his hand. Instead, he simply stared at her curly auburn hair, and observed the way that it framed her pale, lightly freckled face. Large doe eyes looked back at him questioningly, and Draco blushed and looked down.

The girl was wearing a suede brown jumper with a long sleeved white collared shirt underneath, accompanied by stockings and little brown shoes.

She was a vision in brown.

"I'll take you back to my home, it isn't too far from here. I explore these woods all the time, so as long as I'm with you, you don't have to be afraid."

Draco gave her a watery smile, causing her to blush, causing him to blush in return.

And so the two walked through the woods that no longer seemed so dark and frightening, but now seemed beautiful and majestic, hand in hand, little wizard boy, and little muggle girl. The boy was too young to know then that muggles were vile, repulsive creatures. He only knew that this pretty fairy was helping him, and that was that.

Draco's robes were slightly ripped and had a few mudstains. They were black, with a silver 'M' embroidered over his left breast, for Malfoy, of course.

Next to the girl, he, the pureblood, felt dirty.

Pretty soon, the woods began to thin out, until it was only a few trees here and there. Eventually a house upon a hill came into sight, framed by a background of wide, blue sky with huge fluffy white clouds. Like sheep. Draco liked sheep, he had an imaginary sheep named Floppy.

In the years to come, when he was taught prejudice and cruelty, he would forget Floppy and the kindness and love that he had stood for.

The fairy girl led the wizard boy up to the big white house with green shutters and green ivy draping one side, like a grandma had thrown a knit rug over part of a white sofa.

He entered this fairly large house (much smaller than his, of course), and wondered how it must be to live as a fairy. A fairy princess. There was no way that this magical, graceful being could be anything less.

"Come along, here is our telephone," the fairy girl said, and pointed to a strange device. Draco had been wondering what a telephone was, and eyed it rather suspiciously.

"Don't you know your number?" the fairy girl asked, suddenly looking rather worried.

Draco shook his head.

"Do you have any floo powder?" Draco asked her, looking towards the fireplace and seeing that it looked rather unused and very small at that, with a slight frown of disappointment.

"Flu… what?"

Before Draco had a chance to elaborate, the front doors of the pretty white house were burst open by a magical force.

Draco looked up, startled, and saw his father marching towards him with that angry stride of his, his black robes billowing out behind him like the wings of a great vampire bat.

"Draco. Iota. Malfoy. What do you think you're doing in this disgusting muggle home? Come out of this place immediately, and you shall receive your punishment at home! I told you not to play around on that broomstick, and would you listen to me? And why…!"

Mr. Malfoy had looked down and seen that Draco was still clutching the hand of the muggley fairy (what was a muggley Draco didn't understand).

"Get off of him, dirty muggle!" Mr. Malfoy said in his coldest, most condescending voice, anger radiating from every syllable.

The fairy girl's warm hand left his immediately, and she stared up at Draco's father, transfixed with fear.

"Draco! Come here. It is time to leave."

Draco walked slowly to his father, feeling a great sense of fear in his belly.

"You are growing older now, and I shall not spare you any more punishments, if the way you repay me is to go off and associate yourself with the presence of dirty, disgusting muggles!"

"Yes father…" Draco gulped, tears forming in his eyes. He couldn't meet the piercing eyes of his father. He was too afraid, too … ashamed. But ashamed for what? What had he done wrong? Draco was filled with confusion.

"Please sir… if I may… don't hurt the little boy. It was my idea to bring him here so that he could phone you, but he didn't know his number, and I was the one who gave him my hand…so please…"

"Silence! You dare tell me what to do or what not to do?"

Draco's father whipped out his wand, his face contorted with fury.

"Cru—"

"NO! Daddy I'm sorry. The dirty muggle is lying. Let me take the punishment instead. I wish not to defile myself any longer by staying in this dirty place," Draco said, looking at the terrified girl with a cool stare that he had learned by watching his father.

Lucius stared at his son for a while, then, by some strange miracle, said, "So be it. I'm in a hurry," and swept off like the demon.

"I didn't mean it…" Draco whispered as he walked out the door.

"I'm sorry… I only wanted to help…"

"No. It's okay. You're my friend. Thanks for helping me. Can we play again some day?"

"Sure!" the fairy girl looked elated.

Draco grinned widely as he walked out the door. He got on the back of the broom, and started to try and hold his father around the waist, when his father hissed.

"You were in contact with the filthy muggle."

His father muttered a spell, and a handle rose up for Draco to hold.

Draco felt dirty. Contaminated. Being with the little girl made his father hate him.

Then… he shouldn't play with her.

And he didn't.

* * *

Draco sighed, thinking about that girl, stroking the petal of the ruby rose.

He was where he wanted to be. He had walked through the village, and finally found the big white house, with the drapery of ivy. Only it was extremely different from the way he remembered it—now the house was dilapidated and seemed to be falling apart. It no longer looked stately and majestic, it simply looked ugly.

Well, all muggle buildings look ugly, Draco told himself, feeling the slightest twinge of guilt. After Harry Potter had succeeded in killing Voldemort, Lucius had killed Harry an taken over the world. Now Draco was the prince of the world, and felt all the hatred and jealousy that came with the position.

Draco made the twinge of guilt go away, and knocked on the door.

After a little, a woman with large, frightened eyes opened the door. Behind her, Draco could see that many other muggles had taken refuge in one of the few habitable buildings left.

"Are you the owner of this house?" Draco drawled, loving the way that everyone behind him was glaring at him with the deepest loathing, but eyeing his hand, which was at the hilt of his wand.

"Yes. I am," the woman said, fear making her voice tremble.

"How long have you lived here?" Draco asked, managing to keep the hope out of his face.

"For about twenty years now," the woman said, with a slight frown, perhaps pondering what the wizard was going to do to her house.

"Good. Where is your daughter? She is probably my age by now."

The woman's jaw dropped. She eyed him with wide eyes as though she had been struck with an anvil, and not asked a question.

"Muggle! I asked you a question! Show me your daughter."

The woman bowed her head in defeat.

"Please, follow me."

The woman walked out of her house, and down the hill. Draco followed behind her, until he saw to where she pointed.

"There," the woman said, tears flowing down her face.

"That's all I require of you," Draco said coolly, but purposefully dropped a gold coin. He pretended not to notice, and walked to where the woman had indicated.

His eyes widened with shock, and a pale hand flew to his heart. Eventually, his breathing calmed a little, and he laughed slightly to himself.

"Of course… how fitting… how fitting…"

Draco bent down, and placed the red rose by the stone.

He walked away, changed. For they say that a man never forgets his first love, and the fairy girl had been his.

The bleeding rose lay by a stone, and the stone was carved with words—

"Rest in Peace,  
Hermione Jane Granger  
9/19/79 – 10/4/1999  
Beloved Daughter, Heroic Witch"

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What'd you think?


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